There was a Little Boy, with two little eyes,
And he had a little head that was just the proper size,
And two little arms, and two little hands;
On two little legs this Little Boy stands.
Now, this little boy would now and then be cross
Because that he could only be the very thing he was;
He wanted this, and then he wanted that;
His head was full of wishes underneath his little hat.
“I wish I was a drummer to beat a kettle-drum,
I wish I was a giant to say Fee-fo-fi-faw-fum;
I wish I was a captain to go sailing in a ship;
I wish I was a huntsman to crack a nice whip.
“I wish I was a horse to go sixty miles an hour;
I wish I was the man that lives up in the lighthouse tower;
I wish I was a seagull with two long wings;
I wish I was a traveller to see all sorts of things.
“I wish I was a carpenter, I wish I was a lord;
I wish I was a soldier with pistol and a sword;
I wish I was the man that goes high in a balloon;
I wish, I wish, I wish I could be something else, and soon!”
But all the wishing in the world is not a bit of use;
That Little Boy, this very day, he stands in his own shoes;
That Little Boy is still but little Master What-do-you-call,
As much as if that Little Boy had never wished at all!
- William B. Rands[1]